


Georgi's great most idiotic adventure

by shackles_of_the_madness



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal, Consent, Cuddling, Drunk Sex, Glitter Lube, Kissing, M/M, YOI Shit Bang 2017, YOIShitBang2017, georgi is so extra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shackles_of_the_madness/pseuds/shackles_of_the_madness
Summary: A baker’s dozen of minds came together with the brilliant idea to craft Georgi and Seung-gil a beautiful smutty adventure. This is that trainwreck of an attempt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Madness, friends. 
> 
> This is a collaboration piece by some of the members of the Yuri on Ice grown-up Discord chat also known as “The Madness.” [TheLoyalMouse](url) and some others gave birth to this idea, we decided on the pairing Georgi/Seung-gil and that every member should “feel free to add a paragraph to this trainwreck of a fic.” 
> 
> Collaborator Nico later commented: “I love how everyone has different images and we are shoving them together like the gayest collage”. 
> 
> Well, here it is. Enjoy.

It was a disaster. An absolute, complete disaster. When thinking back, Georgi can’t explain why he didn’t end up on the podium—but wait. He can.

He flubbed his last quad, landing square on his ass in front of everyone and—worst of all—Anya. Yakov’s face was bright purple, he looked like he might pop a vessel. Not that it matters. He won’t have to deal with Yakov for much longer. A couple more days to get everything settled, then he’ll be off to Novosibirsk. Where he will... Fuck if he knows what he’ll do in Novosibirsk. At least he won’t have to look for an ice rink—it’s cold as hell, he can just use the pool behind his parent’s house.

He shudders violently when he thinks about the cold creeping into his skin. Why couldn’t the last Grand Prix have worked out for him? What did he do to deserve this? Is it impossible to escape Victor and Yuri’s shadow even once? He sighs.

“Uncle Georgi, you coming?” Mila’s voice is as cheerful as ever. She is in full clubbing gear, miniskirt, tight top, insanely high heels. “We’re going to check out this place downtown!” Sara, who is standing right next to her in a similarly revealing outfit, gives him an encouraging smile.

For a moment he weighs his options. Go clubbing with the girls or stay in with chips, chocolate cookies, and a bottle of red wine to celebrate the end of his so-called career, then falling asleep piss-drunk in front of the TV? He doesn’t have to think twice.

“I’m not your uncle, stop calling me that already,” he snaps at Mila, but without any bite whatsoever. Okay, so clubbing it is. Well, this day can’t possibly get any worse, can it? Might as well leave the arena with a bang. “Who else is coming?”

“Victor and Yuuri are going to stay in,” Mila says with a telling grin—they all know what’s going to happen as soon as the couple’s hotel room’s door falls shut behind them.

It isn’t fair that Georgi can’t even compete with them on that level. He wants to get laid too, goddamnit! “Anyone else?”

“Otabek is dj-ing. And, well... Yuri.”

Georgi can feel his left brow crawl up on his forehead (stay put, furry thing!). “Yuri is fifteen!”

Mila snorts. “When did that ever stop him?”

He considers a moment, but decides it isn’t worth the effort and lets the comment pass, turning his attention to more important matters. “Let me go get ready,” he says heading for his room.

“Please don’t wear your pink skinny jeans,” Mila calls after him.

“THEY MAKE MY ASS LOOK FABULOUS!” he screams back, slamming the door to his room. What does she know? Her miniskirt is so last season.

Georgi sighs as he collapses into the chair in front of his dressing table. His dejected reflection stares back at him mockingly, eyes glistening.

“What are you looking at?” he mumbles under his breath, slumped into the chair. Wait, no—now is not the time to be so self-indulgent, he thinks, straightening his back. He quickly pulls out his three large makeup bags from his suitcase, setting them on the table. He huffs, leaning closer to the mirror to carefully apply concealer under his eyes before picking up his liquid eyeliner. “There’s no way Mila’s gonna outshine me tonight…”

Georgi curses as a knock at the door causes him to flinch slightly, making his eyeliner wings slightly uneven. _Oh hell no!_

“ _Blyat_ ! Goddammit, whoever you are, if the hotel is not going up in flames _right fucking now_ you are in serious trouble,” he mutters under his breath. This eyeliner is _waterproof_. It will be such a pain to fix!

He yanks the door open—and blinks in surprise. “You? What ... Can I help you?”

On the other side of the door stands a shorter man with a mass of dark hair, thick eyebrows, and a serious expression. His gaze is cast slightly downwards, avoiding eye contact.  
  
Wow, those eyebrows would look great with a bit of shaping, Georgi thinks, before wondering what on earth this man was doing here. He recognizes him as a fellow skater—Korean, but can’t recall his name.  
  
“Um... so?” Georgi asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I... one of my bags was sent to Jakarta instead of Moscow and... I was told you’re wearing contacts? I’m out of solution.”

Georgi winks before turning around. “Someone’s got big plans for tonight?” He turns to the bathroom, easily reachable from the door in this room, and starts rummaging through his washbag. “Are you gonna come to the club with us?”

The other man makes a strange sound that Georgi only recognizes as an amused grunt after a few moments. “I’m not really the clubbing type.” He says it with such a stern voice Georgi can’t help but chuckle.

“The club we’re going to is the best in Moscow. It’s _the_ place to meet people,” Georgi says semi-defensively, “Come on in, I’ll get you some solution. I probably have a spare bottle somewhere.”

The man hesitates but finally steps a few feet inside so Georgi can close the door.  
“There is no merit to meeting people here,” he said simply, looking slightly impatient.

“Oh, come on-” Georgi wrinkles his brows. “Sorry, I can’t remember your name.” It starts with an S, he is quite sure about that. It’s embarrassing that he forgot it.

“Seung-gil.”

“Really, Seung-gil? So you are neither a clubbing type NOR a people type?” He turns around and continues to search for the bottle. Finally he finds a travel-sized one in his competition make-up bag. “A-ha! Knew this had to be somewhere!” Triumphantly he holds it out to Seung-gil who has followed him over toward the bed, but has stayed in the door to watch him search.

“We can’t all be people types, Mr. Popovic.”

Georgi hesitates a moment. “Well...no, I guess not... But, please don’t call me Mr. Popovic. I can’t be that much older than you…”

“Seven years.” Seung-gil says matter of factly.

“Yes. Well.... Wait, how do you know that?”

“I’ve memorized all of the competitors profiles and scores from past competitions.”

Georgi waits for him to expand on that or give a reason but the other man merely stares at him expressionlessly.

_Whatever. Takes all sorts of weirdos_ , Georgi thinks and ploughs ahead. “So what _do_ you do, then, seven-years-younger-Seung-gil, if you don’t club or people?”

Seung-gil tilts his head. “I club people,” he dead-pans. “I also practice. Read. Study the competition. Do ballet.” He fiddles with the lense solution. “I like ballet. And Matthew Bourne. You based your free skate on his Carabosse, didn’t you. Last year.”

Georgi blinks, and his entire perception of Seung-gil shifts. Not only was that (hopefully…?) a joke, but Seung-gil—taciturn, introverted Seung-gil who doesn’t club or people—has paid attention to Georgi’s free skate. Really, actually paid attention. And he’s seen it for what it is when so many others had taken the piss about his make-up and asked him why he won’t just skate to Evanescence.

“Do you ever just go for a drink?” Georgi says. “Not with people, somewhere quiet, with someone you like.”

Seung-gil lifts an eyebrow. “Are you asking?”

Georgi smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

* * *

**Notes** : Contact lense solution as ice breaker, why not. Let’s get this party started. 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

The bar is relatively quiet for a Saturday night, and no one spares them so much as a single glance when they enter through the revolving glass doors, half an hour later. Georgi is pretty sure Seung-gil’s already regrets taking him up on his offer. While his face isn’t very expressive, his body language is screaming _UNCOMFORTABLE_.

And, honestly, Georgi doesn’t feel all that great either. Maybe he should’ve just stuck with his original plan: Dance, booze, maybe find a cute guy to blow in a toilet stall. God, yes, this has been a terrible idea.

Seung-gil looks at him, then sighs and strides up to the bar to order a whiskey. “He’s paying,” he tells the bartender, indicating Georgi.

“Whiskey, huh?” Georgi is impressed. “Would’ve thought you’d be more into beer.” They take a seat and the uncomfortable silence descends again.

Georgi searches for a conversation topic to break the ice, but all his thoughts turn to… well, the ice. What else do they have to talk about, except the one thing Georgi perhaps does not want to talk about? He wants this night to be an escape. He looks at his drink and sighs. Perhaps this was a mistake, and he should offer the easy out for them both.

But he’s never been one to quit despite the obvious, Georgi looks up with a smile that’s more of a grimace than anything. What tumbles from his mouth is stupid, no doubt about that, “So. Any... hobbies?”

“We should really stop this and start drinking,” Seung-gil answers bluntly and his lips curl into a faint half-smile. Georgi is pleasantly surprised. “Last to finish his drink pays the next round.”

“Alright.” Seung-gil downs his entire shot of whiskey before Georgi can even lift his appletini to his lips. “Hey, I didn’t say go yet!”

“Too bad.” Seung-gil snaps his fingers at the bartender in what Georgi thinks is a rather rude way; surprisingly, he comes right over with another whiskey. Must think he’s cute, he mutters to himself.

Georgi watches as Seung-gil swirls around the whiskey in his glass before he tips it down his throat. And what an elegant throat it is.

“I don’t mind paying,” Georgi says. “But you should take some time and enjoy yourself.” He sips his own drink and wonders if this is how Seung-gil always drinks. With maximum efficiency.

“If you’re paying.” Seung-gil waves at the bartender. “Another glass,” he says. “And leave the bottle.” When it arrives, he pushes the second glass over to Georgi. “Catch up.”

Georgi holds the glass and looks at Seung-gil. He thinks about the hit his wallet is going to take. He thinks about Seung-gil’s long pale fingers. He thinks about not thinking at all. And he drinks, coughing a little, and holding Seung-gil’s gaze as the whiskey burns his throat.

Georgi peers over his glass to, not-so-discreetly, watch as the other man drinks, and honestly, he’s impressed. Seung-gil’s expression is steadfast and strong, but Georgi starts to notice a slight softening to his features. A few more smirks here and there. A rather adorable flush to his cheeks. It’s strangely endearing to see this drop in what seems to be a usually stony facade, to see hint of vulnerability.

Georgi chuckles, “Drinking to forget something too, huh?”

Seung-gil pulls a face. It looks rather adorable on him if you ask Georgi. Which you won’t. No one is interested in his opinion these days.

“Does ‘trying to forget I was born’ count?”

The comment catches Georgi off-guard. He honestly can’t tell whether Seung-gil has just unloaded his darkest secret or if he just has a twisted sense of humor.   
  
Georgi thinks briefly of Anya and how much pain that whole ordeal had caused him—still causes him. And, with his failure on the ice still raw in his mind, he knows exactly how it feels to hit rock bottom. While to others it may look like apathy, Georgi recognizes the sad glint to the Korean man’s eyes.   
  
“I know it hurts.” Georgi says quietly with a sad smile.

“Doesn’t matter,” Seung-gil mutters. He takes the bottle and refills both their glasses, then hands one to Georgi and clinks them, “Here’s to not even giving a single fuck anymore.”  
  
That’s a great toast if Georgi ever heard one. He sips on his drink while watching with growing amazement how Seung-gil— _again!—_ downs his entire one (what a way to waste a perfectly fine glass of twenty-three year old Kentucky Straight Bourbon, thank you very much) without even batting so much as an eyelash.

“Did you know,” Seung-gil leans forward, “that they write stories about us?"

Georgi blinks. “The news?”

“No.” He sets his glass down with a clunk. “No. Girls. Girls do.”

“Are you sure you’re not–”

“I’m not drunk at all! Yet…”

“All right...” Georgi sits back a little.

“I’m telling you. Girls.” He pours himself another shot. “Girls write stories about us.”

“About...you and me?” Georgi hazards.

“About all of us. All the skaters.”

“Okay...”

“They do. All kinds of stories. Dirty stories. Sappy stories. Crazy stories. Stories where we work as flower...shop people...no wait, what are they called?”

“Florists?”

“Right. Florists.”

Georgi smiles softly to himself. "Florists... I like florists." He remembers all the times the florists near his house carefully wrapped bouquets of flowers for his dear Anya... But it’s been a long time since he’s stepped into a shop; Anya rejects all the bouquets he sends to her, crushing them beneath her heels.

“Anyaaa!” The soul crushing sadness takes Georgi back into its hold, and Georgi weeps for his lost love.

Seung-gil, however, continues to talk. “There was this one story with Chulanont and Giacometti working as a florist and in a sex shop respectively. Horrendous story, more than eighty-thousand words full of cliche and flowers in a penis-shaped vase.” He adds hastily, “Not that I read it personally, of course. I have no time to read those kind of stories. And it’s also a work-in-progress, who would wait for a month to get a new chapter?” Seung-gil sips his drink miserably. “It’s been a month…”

“Poor you,” Georgi leans toward Seung-gil and pats his shoulder, “It’s going to be continued—hey!” he gasps when the other man nuzzles against his neck. “What... Hey!” He thinks for a moment what to do. The whole situation keeps getting more and more awkward.

“You smell like… Ylang Ylang and despair,” the muffled voice says from his shoulder.

Georgi freezes. Does Seung-gil somehow know that he stole Anya’s body wash and uses it when he feels especially lonely?

“Do you know—” Seung-gil traces his fingers on Georgi’s back, “that essential oil from Ylang Ylang can be used as an aphrodisiac?”

"How do you know that?" Georgi asks.

Seung-gil mutters something on his skin, sounds like ‘funkfik’ but Georgi isn’t sure, because he can only feel the shape of Seung-gil mouth through his clothes. Slightly wet, and warm. Georgi doesn’t know how to feel about it.

“Babe, I think you had enough,” he says helplessly because the barkeeper looks as if he’s going to poison Georgi’s next appletini. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, hmm? What do you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point the roadmap called for them to go to a club, but then booze and this meta crackship happened. Furious chat-channel debate followed as to how we’d resolve this development.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh for Christ’s sake.”    
  
Seung-gil is heavy, especially when he isn’t supporting any of his own weight. Georgi is not that strong and he curses as he hauls the other man to the elevator. “You can’t be that drunk. Are you that drunk? Please tell me you’re not.”

Seung-gil snorts. “I’m not... I think. But it is fun to make you do all the work though.” He presses his face into Georgi’s chest. “Thanks for paying. This was fun. Somehow.”

And then he’s giggling.   
  
Actually fucking giggling. And it does funny things to Georgi’s heart for reasons he’d rather not delve too deep into.   
  
He pushes Seung-gil into the lift and tries to prop him up against the wall—with minimal success. Seung-gil keeps sliding down and, in order to keep him on his feet, Georgi has to sling his arms around the drunk man from behind. Which brings his groin in very close contact with Seung-gil’s very sculpted, very fine ass.   
  
He swallows. Hard. Not just the swallow.    
  
God- _ FUCKING _ -dammit, what did he even do to deserve this? The kid is fucking  _ sloshed _ ! And all Georgi can think of is how  _ incredibly _ long it has been…   
  
_ Don’t even go there! _ he tells his brain. But, seriously, he’s pretty sure even good ol‘ Volodya Putin would pop a boner in close-combat with such a fine piece of ass. It’s humanly  _ impossible _ to stay unaffected. So he makes peace with the state of his dick and considers himself lucky that Seung-gil is probably too far gone to even notice the  _ iron rod _ pressed against the cleft of his butt.   
  
That is, until said butt suddenly starts grinding against his crotch, eliciting the most delicious friction against his attention-starved cock.   
  
_ Blyat!  _

Seung-gil drops his head back onto Georgi’s shoulder, still giggling quietly under his breath. His dark hair is soft against Georgi’s neck. Wow, this Korean is truly evil. Drunkenly tempting him with such an incredible ass, sweet laugh and soft skin, and those dark, clever eyes... Georgi breathes heavily into Seung-gil’s hair. It smells nice. Shit shit, don’t let him get to your heart too, you barely know the man.    
  
Georgi has always been one for falling too quick and too hard, but even for him this seems crazy. He just needs a fuck, that’s what it is. He quickly needs to find a way to let out his frustrations elsewhere before this takes a wrong turn.

“Hey, where’s your room?” No answer, only giggling. “Seung-gil?” 

It’s useless, Georgi realizes. This man wouldn’t be able to tell him his room number even if he tries to. And he wouldn’t be able to fight Georgi when—

No.

Georgi sighs. Deeply. He tries not to inhale too much of Seung-gil’s intoxicating scent while he searches for his key card in the pockets of his supertight jeans. Jeans that keep getting tighter in a certain area every second he is trapped in the elevator with the other man. Thank God, there’s his floor.

“Okay, let’s get you into my room,” Georgi says more to himself than to Seung-gil who mumbles something incomprehensible and clings to him like a drowning person to a life preserver.

Georgi maneuvers Seung-gil into his room and onto the bed. Seung-gil clutches at Georgi and Georgi takes the younger man’s hands in his own as they curl on top of the duvet. 

“Mis...calculated…” Seung-gil mutters as his eyes slide closed and his body relaxes. His fingers are still twined with Georgi’s but even those slip away after a few minutes.

Retreating from the bed, Georgi searches in the minibar for a criminally expensive chocolate bar and sits down on the uncomfortable love seat to nibble at it. How had he even got to this point? He should be out, glittering under a disco ball, grinding with all the hotties in the city while he tried to forget about his troubles. And how did this beautiful man end up so near and yet so inaccessible?

Oh, shit. Georgi goes and tries to shake Seung-gil awake. “You can’t sleep yet!” he says. “You’ve got to take out your fucking contact lenses!”

He tries again but it’s useless. The other man is already drooling on his pillow happily, mumbling in his sleep. He looks so adorable and Georgi can’t help himself, he just has to pat the black mass of shiny hair once more before he gets up. One man down, another one is in desperate need of a good party. Before he leaves he scribbles a quick note for the sleeping beauty though. ‘You were too drunk to tell me your room number. Sleep well, I’ll be back soon. In case you need something, here’s my number. G.’ He puts the note with his contact info on the second pillow. Thank god that Yakov agreed to a king sized bed because this is Georgi’s last season. 

No, he doesn’t want to think about the end of his career now. He wants to think about clubbing. It’s time to go. So he grabs his keycard, phone and wallet and leaves quietly—but not before looking at Seung-gil one last time. “I should get a gold star for keeping my fingers off of him…” He’s a saint. Oh yes, he is.

If not for his skating, someone should at least give him a medal for  _ this _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that Seung-gil apparently becomes touchy-feely when drunk? It’s true.
> 
> Sudden panic surrounded Seung-gil potentially sleeping in contact lenses, from those of us experienced with such matters. Furious debate followed as we discussed what to do about the KO’d Seung-gil and if Georgi should be a gentleman about things. (We thought he should be!) Our mutual agreement was that Seung-gil needed to sober up a bit before we did the smut part, so, off to the club like originally planned...


	4. Chapter 4

After waving down a taxi, he shoots a quick a text to Mila to find out where they went and smiles to himself when she replies with a mass of thumbs up and heart emojis at the prospect of Georgi joining them.    
  
As he steps out of the car outside the club, he can feel the brisk air of downtown and the thumping bass already soothing his soul—and hopefully putting a certain someone out of his mind for the rest of the night. He wonders how the other man is, alone in Georgi’s bed, lovely soft hair spread across his pillow...

(Wait no, focus!)

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, accentuating his ass in those (amazing,  _ tyvm _ Mila) pink jeans. “Alright bitches, Uncle Georgi’s gonna show you how it’s done!”

The club, it seems, is packed. There’s a throng of people waiting more or less patiently in the blistering cold for their turn to be admitted. Thankfully, Georgi’s on friendly terms with the bouncer who is—who would’ve guessed—a major figure skating fan.

He’s let in with a casual wave, much to the chagrin of the shivering masses. Usually, Georgi is a very empathetic man, and would’ve at least felt bad for receiving such special treatment any other day. But he can’t be bothered tonight. The last twenty-four hours have been a ride to hell and back, and—goddammit—he deserves to enjoy himself a little for not flinging himself from a rooftop. Also, it’s not like anyone’s ever really considerate of his feelings…   
  
Carefully, he climbs down the uneven stairs leading down to the club which is basically the basement of a closed-down sewing machine factory. The naked brick walls are painted a dark red that looks almost black, and always reminds him of dried blood. The only source of light is the pulsating reddish-yellow glow from the main dancefloor at the end of the hallway. Already, he can feel the vibration of the basses in his bones, and his body starts swaying on its own accord. When there’s music, he’s just incapable of staying still.    
  
It’s probably why he turned out to be a reasonably good figure-skater.    
  
A bitter smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He wonders if that’s what’s going to be engraved on his headstone one day:  _ He was reasonably decent at everything he tried. _

Well... Fuck it. 

He opens the door and a wave of hot air and booming music hits him like a sledgehammer. This makes the bad feelings disappear—almost, at least, they’re still tugging at his heart—but he closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath and dives into the party crowd without any further delay.

The music infects him immediately and he wastes no time in giving in. Stray hands slide fleetingly along his flanks and ass, Mila knows nothing, these are the best pants. He occasionally sees a flash of his friends amidst the throng, but as soon as they come together they are drawn apart again by the seething mass.

Here, at last, the stress of the day bleeds out. Here it doesn’t matter that his career is over. Or that he has no idea what will come next. Here the only thing that matters is the music and the string of willing dance partners sliding against him. The music volume increases suddenly, and he looks over to see Yuri half splayed on the control board as the obvious cause. A hand, presumably Otabek’s, reaches up from where he’s kneeling in front of the flailing Yuri to quickly fix the volume bar and maneuver Yuri to a more secure portion of the panel. The volume fluctuations continue off and on for the rest of Otabek’s set but Georgi has to admire the amount of dedication the other man would need to keep things running relatively smoothly while simultaneously giving what, judging by Yuri’s face, is an excellent blowjob. 

Time slips away and far too soon it’s time leave. His eager dance partners have slipped away in pairs, or more, leaving him alone and half hard.

The cold air outside helps with the latter, but there’s nothing to be done about the former. Sweat chills on his skin as he makes the walk of shame back to the hotel.

He isn’t thinking beyond the need for a shower and bed as he stumbles into his room, not even bothering with the light.

“Thought you’d never come back.” The voice cuts through the darkness and Georgi shrieks very unmanly. 

“Jesus Fuck!”

“Jesus has nothing to do with this,” Seung-gil says, and Georgi can’t help himself but snort. Then his heartbeat calms and his eyes adapt to the darkness and he sees the other man sitting up in bed. His hair is beautifully tousled and his face is so gorgeous Georgi can’t help but whimper almost inaudibly. 

“Where have you been?”

“Clubbing,” Georgi manages to croak hoarsely. His brain must’ve stayed in the club with all the grinding bodies and longing gazes. He’s horny as... well, as fuck.

Seung-gil seems to have sobered up quite a bit. It’s almost morning so this is no surprise. But why is he still here? 

"Why are you still here?" Georgi says, still taking in the delightful sight of a handsome man in his hotel bed. 

“I was waiting for you,” he hears Seung-gil simply say. “Took you long enough.” The sheets rustle when he slips out of bed and crosses the room to stand right in front of Georgi. His slim hand suddenly rests on Georgi’s blushed cheeks. Then he bends forward. 

He tastes like old bourbon and caramel.

His lips are a bit chapped, but Georgi doesn’t mind one bit. Seung-gil has his eyes closed, but Georgi can still see them moving underneath his pale lids. He has incredibly long lashes, thick and curved. Didn’t he read somewhere that Asian lashes were usually short and straight? He pushes the silly thought away and focuses on the kiss instead. It’s not sloppy and wet as he expected their first kiss to to be. 

Because, looking back, not a single one of his first kisses were actually particularly good. 

This one though... feels... nice? More than nice, really, but words are not coming easily at the moment. 

He can feel Seung-gil’s hand at the back of his neck, his thumb brushing over the short hair on the nape. 

The touch sends chills down his spine, and Seung-gil seems to take his full-body shudder as a sign to pick up his game. Georgi sucks in a choked breath when suddenly a hand gropes his ass.

“W-wait…” 

The hand stops in mid-motion and Seung-gil’s eyes have this amused glint he is not yet sure he likes. But he listens. And so Georgi blabbers. He always does in situations like this. Mila, who knows everything about his sexual escapades, would be chuckling by now. "Not like this." It’s the hardest thing on earth—pun intended—to take Seung-gil’s hand and put it away from his ass. To lead him to the bed. “We need to take preparations first.” 

“For what?” Seung-gil asks in a flat tone, but follows Georgi’s insecure steps reluctantly. He also lets himself being put on the mattress. Georgi silently thanks him for his patience. He’s only wearing some very tight underwear and it’s clear that Seung-gil wants to do anything but wait and talk. If he’s honest he just wants to rip off both of their clothes and just do it. Find out who’s the one fucking the other tonight. Finding out how Seung-gil’s skin and dick taste. But this night is different. It has to be... perfect?

"I..." He’s not sure why he stopped. "We..."

Seung-gil raises a perfect eyebrow. "I don’t know you well, Popovic. But I think you worry too much." 

He puts a hand on Georgi’s cheek again, and the tender gesture sends shivers through his love-starved body. It reminds him of better times, times where he wasn’t a single entity but one half of a greater being. Wait. No. This is wrong. It was never like this.

“I want you.” While Seung-gil informs him of his intentions he never averts his gaze. He fixates him with a confident look and smiles. God, he has a dimple when he does that. “I’m not the most avid talker. Sorry if this was cheesy. Would you feel more comfortable if we just-” 

Georgi just kisses him as an answer. Fuck insecurities. Fuck Anya. This is now and this is real.

Fuck Seung-gil. Literally.

This time, Georgi opts to close his eyes and revel against the mouth on his. Seung-gil deepens their kiss by pulling on the shirt Georgi is still somehow wearing. The tug causes both of them to fall back onto the mattress from their sitting position at the edge of the bed. They lay side by side with their legs still hanging over the bed. Georgi’s hands get lost in the mess of Seung-gil’s hair, switching between massaging his scalp and pulling at the strands gently. 

After a few moments of this rhythm he set, Seung-gil moans into his mouth. That sound alone shoots straight to Georgi’s cock, proving that without a doubt he is still hard and horny. The more he kisses Seung-gil, the more his insecurities and skepticism melt away. Especially with the noises he elicits from simply dragging his hands through his hair. Georgi wants to be the reason Seung-gil keeps moaning until the sun comes up.

Seung-gil’s hand drags across Georgi’s chest, lowering until it reaches the bulge in his tight jeans. The pressure he applies makes strangled sounds erupt from Georgi’s throat. Seung-gil pulls back from his lips with a smirk before directing his attention to his hand. 

“Why are you still in these?” he asks as he slightly jerks at a belt loop of Georgi’s favorite pink jeans, his hand still nonchalantly resting on his dick. 

“They make my ass look good.” Georgi didn’t plan on divulging the exact reason he even owned them in the first place, let alone why he has them on still, but the statement makes Seung-gil grin. And Georgi’s heart flutters like it did when he first saw such an expression on the other man. 

“They do. But right now they’d look better on the floor.” Seung-gil kisses him again before Georgi has the time to laugh at the stupid line. 

He’d be lying right now if he says it doesn’t work on him. Plus the fact that Seung-gil is agreeing that they do make his ass look good gives Georgi all the more reason to help try and peel them off. After a few seconds of both of them trying to get his jeans off without looking, Seung-gil pulls away from his lips yet again with an unsatisfied sound. Georgi watches him for a moment, his eyebrows knitted in exasperation as he unbuttons the jeans and tries to pull them off from where they’re still laying. A chuckle escapes his lips as another sound of frustration comes from Seung-gil. At this, Seung-gil stands and takes a firm grip at the waist of the jeans before pulling with force. The jeans come off, inside out but off nonetheless. Georgi gets turned on somehow even more at the action of being undressed in such a manner.

It takes a moment for Georgi to remember that he didn’t bother putting on underwear, finally noticing Seung-gil’s gaze. A blush rises to his cheeks and he thinks about apologizing for some reason, before Seung-gil is on top of him, his underwear clad ass resting on his cock. The feeling makes Georgi whimper and slightly grind up into him. Seung-gil leans over and their lips meet once again, tenderly but with a taste of need and want. 

“I told you they would look better on the floor.” Seung-gil says this quietly against his lips in between kisses. Georgi can tell he is grinning slyly from his eyes alone. Instead of responding with words, Georgi rather bucks his hips up, making Seung-gil whine at the sudden action. The reaction makes Georgi grin.

Seung-gil breaks away from the kiss gasping, writhing in Georgi’s lap.

“More.”

Georgi feels the word down his spine and tingling into his already painful erection.

“Need to take these off first.” He tries to untangle himself but Seung-gil is having none of it. The other man’s hands feel like hot iron on his scalp.

Georgi tries once more, feebly, before he gives up and shoves the underwear down just enough to grip two handfuls of a truly magnificent ass.

Seung-gil moans, grinding harder against him as Georgi circles a finger around his hole.

“More.” Truly a man of few words, but the ones he does let loose are enough.

Georgi slips a manicured finger inside, groaning in unison with the other man as he does. His cock throbs, aching for the tight heat devouring his probing digit.

Georgi swallows. Hard. It’s been awhile since he’s done this with a guy. And he had forgotten how different it feels. The velvet tight heat enveloping his finger, almost pulling him in.

Seung-gil is panting and makes the most delicious faces when Georgi pushes in a second finger. 

As soon as he feels him relax, he starts searching for the spot that will make him see stars. He is a man on a mission. And, honestly, he’s glad he has a task to focus on. Otherwise, this would most likely be over before it really begins.

Not that he’s not still in imminent threat of just that happening, with Seung-gil clinging to him like he’s drowning and Georgi is the only one who can save him.

“I’m not made of glass,“ he mutters. “More, Georgi. Now!“

Georgi suddenly realizes something: Seung-gil needs lube. And he’s apparently well-prepared: his tub of glitter lube is ready and waiting on the nightstand. Although he should be mad that a stranger went through his stuff, he feels absolute bliss instead of burning anger. Plus, the thought of the other man preparing himself for him makes him grin like a hungry wolf. 

“Apparently you aren’t,” he purrs, and kisses Seung-gil’s sweaty, furrowed brow, while he grabs the tub of lube with his free hand and opens it. He pulls out his fingers and Seung-gil sighs frustratedly. “Just a second, sweetie.” Quickly he dips out a generous amount and returns to his important work—making Seung-gil happy.

“It’s nice that you waited for me, ready to go.” He crooks his fingers and Seung-gil whimpers something incoherent in Korean. Georgi feels his cock twitch at the delightful sound and bites his lip not to give away his excitement. "Do you... ah! Like this..." 

"I do," Georgi simply says. He can’t add anything else because a slim hand finds its way into his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to multiple writers and because we tried to go with the flow, Seung-gil’s ass was mysteriously lubed by “Mr. Muckwuckery’s Magical Miraculously Materializing Lube” (copyright [neuroglam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neuroglam)) first. Had to fix this because we couldn’t stop making fun of it.
> 
> Next chapter will be smutty. Be prepared.


	5. Chapter 5

Seung-gil's fingers trace along Georgi's cock almost reverently, pausing to explore occasionally. The large vein underneath, the ridge of the head and slit all get special attention and Georgi has to concentrate to keep his fingers moving in the other man's channel.

Though he may be a man of few words, the soft gasps and whimpers are ratcheting Georgi up more than he would have thought possible.

“Need this.” Georgi shivers as the words are breathed into his mouth with a pant and trace of tongue. Unfortunately his brain has gone entirely south by this point and he hasn't the slightest idea what ‘this’ is. Each attempt to focus is cut short by the skillful fingers that seem to find his glans fascinating.

“What... do you need,” he manages to grit out.

“This,” sudden pressure on his cock makes the breathless moan clear, “Need this. In me. Now.”

Georgi’s head is swimming. He’s glad his body remembers how to breathe and function of his autonomic nervous system, because he, sure as hell, has forgotten. He scrambles—fucking  _ scrambles! _ —to do as Seung-gil has asked. A full body shudder shakes Seung-gil when Georgi starts to press in slowly. 

_ Wow, this… _

A part of him that is still half-way coherent wants to tell Seung-gil how it feels. The pressure, and how Georgi can feel every little twitch Seung-gil makes. But as soon as he opens his mouth, Seung-gil becomes impatient. He grinds down, so Georgi’s cock slides all the way in. 

It takes his breath away, and all that comes out is a strangled, choked cry he would feel embarrassed over at any other time. But not now. Now he has to focus on not blowing his load right there and then. His cock is practically  _ throbbing _ with excitement. But Seung-gil doesn’t look like he’s going to give Georgi a breather for all too long. So he tries to conjure up pictures he hopes might dampen his overheated libido at least a little. He thinks of Viktor with the gold medal around his neck. Kissing it. Lips looking incredibly soft, while looking at Georgi from underneath pale lashes that… 

_ Niet! Abort mission! _

His toes are curling and the his balls feel like they’re about to explode but… 

He. Is. Not. Going. To. Come. Just. Yet. 

It’s a sheer inhuman feat, but he really manages to stop himself from making this probably the shortest sexual encounter in the history of mankind. But he isn’t granted more than five seconds to silently celebrate his victory, because Seung-gil starts to move again.

_Fuck_!

"Need... more lube," Georgi gasps, fighting for an extra moment or fifty to stave off an embarrassing finale. He spies the tub lying near Seung-gil's hip, but as this is his life and nothing can ever be perfect, his clumsy fingers manage to send it rolling toward the headboard and out of his reach. It leans against the pillows proudly displaying it's emblazoned ‘glitter lube’ logo and taunting him.

His heart is weary with the despair of his existential angst, even during this time of extreme pleasure. A pained expression must have crossed his face, because Seung-gil frowns at him before glancing back to see the prize just beyond easy reach.

“Hold on tight,” he murmurs. It's the only warning he gives before arching back. Georgi barely manages to get his second hand back to the delicious ass before he whites out for a moment as the other man's muscles clench around him. There's a high-pitched gurgling sound and he knows it's him, but there's nothing to be done. Two handfuls of taut muscles, the clench and release along his cock and the smooth bowed expanse of pale skin over rippling abs and pecs mean he is unlikely to regain coherency any time soon.

Seung-gil's fingers brush the tub and before he loses this perfect chance forever, Georgi runs his tongue up the divine highway before him. Starting with a dip into the navel and tracing the line between each perfectly formed ab.

The body beneath his tongue shudders and he can feel the vibrations of the breathy moan that reaches his ears.

He is able to trace even further as Seung-gil shakily returns, drawing his tongue along the center of the pecs before sliding over to explore a dusky nipple.

Something taps his head, drawing him out of the world beneath his mouth.

It's the errant lube, held in shaky hands it quivers nearby. "More." A shiver traces down Seung-gil's body from head down the muscles Georgi's tongue just explored and only his still deeply entrenched shaft. "More."

Georgi unscrews the cap one handed with the ease of long practice, and coats his fingers.

He pulls out slightly, teasing along Seung-gil's hole and admiring the way the glitter plays on his taut flesh.

He swipes his glitter lube coated finger across Seung-gil's opening and his own shaft. The sight of the glitter streaking across the place where the two are joined is enough to draw a guttural moan from Georgi's chest. It shimmers a deep red like the dust of crushed rubies. Seung-gil fucks down and pants, “Yes, more!” 

Georgi dips his finger back into the tub and scoops a heavy glob of lube out. This time he slips his coated finger slowly inside of Seung-gil alongside his own length. He works the lube deep inside and begins to rock his hips slowly. 

Seung-gil grasps as the sheet beneath him, and small squeaks make their way from his throat. "Harder, Georgi," he whines. 

Georgi doesn't need any additional motivation as he removes his slicked finger and begins thrusting harder into his lover. He runs his glitter covered finger over Seung-gil’s nipples, streaking the other man's chest with shining red particles. 

Seung-gil reaches up and pulls Georgi down closer to him. The tips of their noses brush and they stare into each other's eyes. Georgi can feel his eyebrows lift and squeeze together. The muscles of his ass begin to burn as he continues to pump harder into the man in front of him. He bites at his lower lip and begins to see flashes of light in the corner of his eyes.

“I’m almost there!” he cries.

Seung-gil appears surprised by the sudden exclamation but licks his lips and gazes into his lover's eyes. Georgi can feel his entire body begin to quiver as he approaches his orgasm.

The heat building at the base of his abdomen is matched only by the heat beginning to pool behind his eyes. He thrusts faster and feels the first tear beginning to slip from the corner of his eye. 

When he comes the floodgates release and suddenly hot drops are showing from his eyelashes and onto Seung-gil's face below. Georgi pants and moans out a high-pitched squeal. Seung-gil stares up at him from below, drops of water dotting his face and sparkling in the beam of moonlight entering through the window.

“Georgi... are you crying?” Seung-gil manages to murmur. 

Georgi gazes down at his lover and the sight causes him to sob loudly. 

"It’s just so beautiful. You’re so beautiful Seung-gil,” Georgi whispers. 

In that moment Seung-gil appears to Georgi as a lost puppy, staring up at him with large warm eyes. His face is wet with tears as if he had been caught in an evening rainstorm, his hair disheveled like the coat of a husky. Georgi's tears continue to fall for several more moments. The two men bask in the presence of the other and do not look away.

Eventually Seung-gil’s hand reaches up and touches Georgi's face. “You are beautiful too.” Simple words they are, but Georgi feels the other man means what he says. His eyes are honest and calm, his fingers soft and tender. Georgi leans in for a kiss. 

It's sweet and innocent and full of something Georgi hasn't felt in a while. It's not just the sex they had, which was pretty much perfect, there's something more. Something that goes deeper than mere fucking. 

Seung-gil slowly guides him down into the sheets and Georgi pulls out of him. From the corner of his eyes he realizes the bed is a mess. There's glitter lube everywhere—on the pillows, on the bed sheets, on Seung-gil, on him. It's a gorgeous sight. He feels complete and utter bliss and closes his eyes.

A soft touch brings him back. When he looks up he sees Seung-gil, butt-naked and with a slight smile on his lips, holding out some toilet paper. “To take care of the mess.” He himself looks cleaned up already, only a very small reddish streak on his chest tells of what happened between them just a few minutes earlier. 

Seung-gil sits down on the bed and starts cleaning Georgi with gentle fingers. He rubs everything off Georgi’s chest and also takes care of his sticky thighs. It’s done with so much care Georgi feels he’s tearing up again. He remembers Anya who always jumped out of bed right after they were finished and rushed to the shower eager to destroy every evidence about what they just did. Anya who would never have touched him voluntarily after he pulled out of her. With everything he’s got left he swallows the knot in his throat. 

“You’re a sensitive guy.” Seung-gil voices it like a statement, not a question. He's still cleaning Georgi although there's not much to clean left. 

“What if?” Georgi can't help himself, he’s sounding defensive. 

“Nothing. I like it.” Seung-gil tosses the smeared toilet paper on the floor. “Can I?” he asks and it takes Georgi a moment to understand that he most likely wants to lie next to him. 

And cuddle. 

“You like sensitive people?” he says in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Seung-gil climbs onto the bed and places himself right next to Georgi. He places his head on Georgi’s chest and he snuggles into the crook just beyond his neck, his soft hair tickling his skin in a delightful way. “It’s honest. I like honest. I like you.” 

Georgi draws Seung-gil into a firm embrace and places a soft kiss on his forehead. “Where have you been all my life,” he mumbles. It’s good Seung-gil can’t see his face. There are tears again, he feels it. Shouldn’t he be dried up by now? Well, fuck it. This man simply enchanted him in one night with his taciturnity, his dry humor and his honesty. “Please stay, okay?” He grabs the reasonably clean duvet and drags it over them. 

It’s so cozy he feels incredibly tired already. Seung-gil’s breath is soft on his skin, long fingers caress his chest. He sighs. 

“I won't go anywhere, I promise.” 

“You won’t?” 

“I won’t.” 

Georgi can live with that. The simple words contains a promise, a promise of a happy life, a promise of a future he won't have to face alone. In this moment, all is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had to be rewritten because… well, it’s Myshka’s fault.  
> “But first - condom! He grabs one - 'add some sparkle to your sex life - black sparkly glow in the dark condoms by cumgum' reads the wrapper - from the nightstand (they're conveniently lying next to the bottle of lube - magic!) and ... THROWS it on. It performs a flawless quadruple flip in the air before landing on his dick perfectly.”  
> Plus, all The Madness members now know that there are more strange kinds of lube than there are stars in the sky. Bacon lube? Glow-in-the-Dark-Lube? Gold-plating-your-dick-lube? Bring it on. It was so hard to decide!!! #therealproblems
> 
> ***
> 
> So that’s it. It’s finished, “it's cracky and cheesy and ridiculous” and we’d love to hear what you think!
> 
> Thanks to all authors, editors, and cheerleaders from The Madness - here they’re listed in no particular order: 
> 
> nocturnalwanderlust, Campbell, Jade, Julie - LGFUADJJ, [neuroglam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neuroglam), Nico, [prillalar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prillalar), [sacheland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacheland), [SakanaToAi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakanaToAi), [sprosslee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprosslee), [TheLoyalMouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoyalMouse/pseuds/TheLoyalMouse), and [violetnyte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetnyte/pseuds/violetnyte). (Some of us write their own fics, check them out :))


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